


Double Sausage with Extra Cheese

by teicakes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (to turn keith on), Alternate Universe - College/University, Belly Bulges, Blow Jobs, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Face-Sitting, Fingerfucking, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pizza Deliverer Keith (Voltron), Second-Hand Embarrassment, Size Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Twins, slight shirocest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teicakes/pseuds/teicakes
Summary: There's a growing problem on Keith's regular delivery route. A very hot, very attractive problem with the last name Shirogane and two personalities that has him wanting to spend longer and longer on that doorstep.Little does he know that problem's actually two.Or, Keith falls hard for the Shirogane twins and their dicks fall even harder for him.





	Double Sausage with Extra Cheese

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joltikon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Joltikon).



> This is inspired by [a few](https://t.co/AEDk0wOQKc) [tweets](https://twitter.com/joltikon/status/1085884487383183361) by @joltikon on twitter and the very tempting idea of Keith being fucked to an inch of his life by two Shiros.
> 
> It's also another exercise in "how long can I hold out on writing slowbuild before I give in and slap on 5k of porn"

By his third day of work, Keith’s confirmed it. Delivering pizzas isn’t glamorous, but hey, it pays. He gets to ride his bike around town, doesn’t have to plaster on a fake customer service smile for eight hours straight, and sometimes, if he’s lucky, he gets to eat the joke and cancelled orders. All in all it’s as much as he can ask for to help put him through college.

The people he meets too, they can be cool too. There’s the group of old ladies who give him a glass of sweet tea and a slice of cake for the road everytime he drops their pies off for bridge club. There’s the guy he swears might be in a gang, but helps him fix his bike when it breaks down in the middle of a shift. And there was that frat party where he’d be carried into the middle of it all, drunken sophomores screaming his praises for getting them twelve pizzas in under 30 minutes. They’re all memorable in their own right, but with each passing week more and more of them fade into the noise of hungry faces and undertippers.

He’s two months into the gig now, picking up a Tuesday shift for one of his coworkers and just about ready to call Sal up and ask if he can call it quits early. No one orders anything on a Tuesday, aside from moms with book club and students with midnight munchies, and those guys call in long after his shift will be up. But just as he makes it back to the restaurant there’s a new order and he’s back out on the road, delivering to whoever the heck needs pizza at 8:00pm on a weekday.

Double sausage with fried onions and extra cheese. Keith’s mouth is watering as he climbs the stairs to the guy’s apartment. _Shirogane_ , says the order slip, same as the buzzer, and the little placard sign beside apartment 2D. Whoever this guy is, he’s got good taste, Keith’s about ready to call Sal up and make him make one when he finishes for the night. Maybe he’s some old retiree who’s grandkids came to visit. Or maybe some exhausted business guy coming home after a long day.

He knocks, trying to sort out which guess is right before the guy’s footsteps stop and they’re face to face. Fast. Probably the business guy then. There’s the sound of nails on the other side of the door, small meows, and then the lock is turning.

Keith nearly drops the pie as the door swings open.

The guy is _definitely_ not old, and _definitely_ not some haggard wall street type. He’s practically Keith’s age, tall, almost a head on him, with a bright tuff of white hair in the middle of his short cropped cut. In one arm is a large black and white cat, and the other a dishrag stained to hell and back, dripping some kind of rusty liquid. The same liquid that’s splashed all over the front of his apron and across his nose and slowly drying in parts of his hair.

“Oh thank god. You’re here.” When the guy talks, it’s like he’s been waiting his whole life for Keith to show up on his doorstep. His eyes light up, sunlight sparking through storm clouds, a smile of relief that could thaw even his grumpiest moods. “I was freaking out, the kitchen’s a total disaster, I didn’t know what to do and-”

“And now I’m here? Keith offers. For a second he wonders if he wandered into the wrong apartment complex, but of course he didn’t. He stares dumbly at the guy, then at his door sign, then back to him.

“Shirogane... right?”

“Yeah, but my friends all call me Shiro. One sec.” Shiro offers him a shrug, showing off his overfull, and pretty buff, arms.

_Shiro. Somehow it fits him._

_Fuck,_ he’s cute, oblivious to the lump of orange stuck in his bangs that looks suspiciously like a kraft single. Shiro’s now trying to figure out if he puts down the cat or cloth as Keith stands there with his offering. The cat seems to be used to this, making no point of trying to claw its way out of his arms, even as it’s legs dangle down past Shiro’s waist like a fuzzy slinky. Despite the mess all over him, Shiro seems decently well put together, dressed in a long-sleeve shirt and joggers, both now tie dyed with red and orange. Keith eyes the singe mark on his sleeve.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“Me…” Shiro laughs, opting to let the dish towel sit in a soggy mass beside his keys. “I uh… I’m not the best cook. I was trying to make grilled cheese and soup, and well…” he waves at his front, and Keith gets to take in the full spread of the disaster that are his clothes. His apron is practically a galaxy of alphabet noodles and peas, and although covered in stains and congealed cheese, hugs his body just right, showing how the his broad chest tapers into a narrow waist. Shiro’s shirt strains to contain his biceps, and with a sudden rush of his caveman brain, Keith pictures bench pressing him without so much as a sweat. Which right now, he’s trying a heck of a lot not to do. Hot guys like this weren’t the usual on his delivery routes.

“You look good,” he says. “ _I mean_ — your clothes look good! Or— or— they could look worse?”

The stranger almost drops the pizza as he takes it from Keith, some leftover soup dripping down his cheek. “You’re… you’re way too nice!” And fuck Keith needs to know if it’s tomatoes or blood that have Shiro’s ears looking red. “My brother always tells me only _I_ would be able to mess up canned soup this bad.”

“You spilled _that much?_ From Campbells?”

“I got startled, okay?” Shiro sniffs, setting both pie and cat down on the hall table. “The bread started burning and then I flipped it and the top slice came off and before I knew it I’d knocked the whole pot off the burner. And since the fridge is basically empty… well…” He tugs his wallet out of his pocket. “You’re honestly a life saver tonight. I’m already behind on my assignment as is, getting groceries isn’t a option right now. You’re not new to Sal’s, are you? I used to always get this girl with blue lipstick delivering to me in the past. Anna… Anta...”

“Acxa,” Keith corrects. “And not really. Her and I swapped shifts this week, but I’ve been with Sal for a while now.”

“Cool. Cool…” Shiro nods, frozen, until he realizes he’s still standing there with his hand in his wallet and the check still unsettled. Bills are thrust into Keith’s hand. For a second he feels a thrill as Shiro’s fingers touch his own, worn and warm as the look of tired gratitude on his face. Keith looks down at the sum.

“Do you want change?” he asks. He’s nearly counting on it, wondering if he can feel those big fingers again and _really_ get a sense of the size of them versus his own. Really… he needs more excitement in his life if a hot guy covered in soup is doing it for him right now.

“Nah,” Shiro smiles, and the little wrinkle of his nose as he waves his hand is going to stay in Keith’s mind for the rest of the night. Or week. “I messed up, might as well dole out some good karma and hope some comes my way too. ‘Sides, I doubt you’re paid $20 an hour to deliver food to idiots like me.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Just a feeling. Hope you have a good night, uh…”

“Keith,” he says.

“Keith…” Shiro nods, and Keith’s not sure if that smile of his softens or its just his imagination. “Well, here’s to a good one for you. Drive safe!”

“You too,” Keith says, voice catching in his throat. He watches until the door is closed in his face, until every last little sliver of Shiro and his cat disappear from sight. Only then does he look down.

Thirty dollars.

Shiro had tipped him $16 on a $14 pie.

* * *

A week and a half later and Keith finds himself with a familiar order in a stack of pizzas. It’s probably just coincidence, but one look at his deliveries list and he knows its not. His hot disaster of a delivery crush is on there, smack between a house in the nearby suburbs and a run out to campus.

He decides to leave it to the last one, even though it was called in first.

When he shows up to Shiro’s door at last, it’s painfully close to the 45 minute window. The family out in the burbs had taken forever to find their wallet, mom and dad waffling between each other over who was supposed to pay him. He’d stood there on the threshold for eight minutes waiting for them to sort things out, only for their teenaged daughter to hand him a twenty and tell him he could leave. But by all records, Shiro seemed like a nice guy the last time he was here, chances are he’ll understand.

“Finally! What took you so long Acx— _oh_.”

Shiro stands in the doorway, full on staring at Keith. Normally he’d take that as a sign something was on his face. His hair was always messy from the wind and his hoodie ruffled up just as much, but right now, he’s staring just as much as Shiro’s staring at him.

 _That is one tight shirt_.

A tight black tank top clings to his body, giving Keith a front row seat to the guns and ammo show that are Shiro’s muscles. There’s a nice tight pair of compression pants hugging his legs too, and if Keith had any ideas of Shiro being anything other than stacked they’re gone for good now.  Around his ankles weave the cat, eyeing Keith and the open door with similar appreciation.

“You’re not Acxa…” Shiro says, still seemingly in boot up mode. “Woah… upgrade much? Not that I don’t like her, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes it’s nice to see a fresh face that won’t judge me on my cheat days.”

If this is Shiro’s cheat day, Keith wants to see what he looks like on one of his workout ones.

“Yeah,” he laughs nervously, still way too aware of how Shiro’s muscles shine with a thin layer of leftover sweat. Even though he’s clearly just back from the gym, he doesn’t stink. “Well, I mean… I saw you covered in soup and cheese, so seeing you any other way’s clearly a step up.”

Shiro gives him a blank look for a second, but it’s gone as soon as he reaches down and snags the freedom-seaking cat by its collar.

“Right…” he laughs, “that was last week, wasn’t it? Probably looked like a disaster to you.”

“I’ve seen worse.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“Okay… maybe not in the food-mess department, but one time a kid opened the door covered in paint and I was pretty sure there was some peanut butter mixed in there too.”

“Well, I’m glad that hurricane of a toddler takes the top spot. I’d be hurt if you thought higher of them than me.”

_Oh no. Keith definitely thinks higher of Shiro than that kid._

“Anywho,” Shiro rubs his hands, fingers wiggling as they reach out towards the box Keith’s still holding. “What do I owe you? $14, right?” He leans forwards, taking a huge whiff of semi-warm pizza, and Keith fights back every last urge to oogle down at the deep shadow of Shiro’s cleavage disappearing into his top. He’s not like that. No… he doesn’t look there on girls, no matter how stupidly low cut their shirts are… he’s not looking there on Shiro… He tries to focus on the guy’s head, where his silver streaks are growing out, only to be caught off guard as Shiro grins up at him.

“Smells good enough to eat.”

Keith’s not stupid enough not to realize that Shiro isn’t just talking about the food.

And that makes him almost fumble the pass.

Shiro on the other hand, seems to relish in how Keith’s neck is growing warmer with every flick of his eyes over his body. “So… considering you got a massive tip here last time, what do you say you’re okay with a slightly smaller one today?”

Keith can only nod as Shiro balances the box in one hand and pulls out a crisp 20 with another.

“Student life… can’t always go tipping the pizza boy as much as he’s worth. Just don’t go telling Acxa. She’ll probably add peppers on it just to spite me.” He leans against the doorframe as Keith pockets the cash, still watching Keith with the same easy smile. He’s completely different when he isn’t panicking over a trashed kitchen, more confident, and Keith’d be lying if he didn’t say it suits him.

“Thanks so much for coming by… uh…” he blinks. “Crap…”

Of course he didn’t remember his name. He’d just been the pizza guy in his moment of crisis.

“Keith.”

“Keith…” Shiro gives him one last once over, lips curling up just a little more. “Of course, I’m so stupid. It fits you like a glove…. Speaking of,” he nods at Keith’s biking gloves, “You got a ride?”

“Just an old Seca, nothing that fancy.”

Shiro whistles. “Still… for a second I thought you might have one of those little mopeds. Nice to meet someone with some good taste. Can’t take those Foodora couriers seriously on their cruiser bikes with those bright pink vests. But the leather...” he hums, “gotta say, it looks good. I’m looking forward to seeing you around more Keith. Might need to start carbo loading more often.”

Whatever he says as a goodbye is lost on him as Shiro closes the door and Keith makes his way back out of the apartment complex on autopilot. He stops in front of his secondhand Yamaha, stroking the leather of the seat.

Shiro liked that he rode.

This dang customer crush was just going to get worse, wasn’t it?

* * *

The next month brings more papers and exams, and Keith finds himself taking on more and more of Acxa’s shifts as she starts entering the dreaded midterm mode. Even if he probably could be studying more, Keith’s not as freaked out as she is. He’s got a decent handle on his classes and can survive on less than eight hours a night. He’s doing just fine.

More than fine actually.

With Acxa’s shifts, he keeps running into Shiro more and more.

It’s basically a weekly guarantee now, though the exact day always seems to change. He starts looking forward to them, the five minutes he gets to have a genuine connection with someone instead of an exchange even tongueless caveman could do. Hand over pizza, give money, leave. Most customers his age seem to be like that, minus the few who toss in the generic pleasantries as well, but Shiro’s different.

He finds out Shiro’s studying both physics and kin, and that sparks a full on conversation about professor Iverson and how to survive his electromag class. He’s a year ahead of Keith, would have been two, but he took some terms off for work and research. When Keith brings up the fact he’s taking thermodynamics next term Shiro runs back into the apartment to grab his old textbook, insisting he take it, withholding Keith’s tip until he does. Another time Shiro goes off about his biomechanics course, and Keith stands there watching that beautiful man’s arms wave every which way as he tries to explain to Keith about all the nitpicky aspects of wrist joints he’s going to be tested on that week. He fights back eager fingers as Shiro offers for him to feel the muscles corded there, gently resting them on the underside of Shiro’s arm as he explains each tendon movement. The way he blinks up at Keith and realizes he’s more prepared than he thought makes Keith chuckle, then straight up panic when Shiro pats him on the shoulder in thanks.

He learns the cat’s name is Cassiopeia, or Cassie for short.  She’s a spoiled baby, bouncing between loving Shiro and yowling at him for more attention when he and Keith stand in the hallway, catching up about whatever’s been going on in their lives. One time she even lets him hold her, one of those days where she isn’t draped around Shiro’s neck or scooped up in her arms like a baby.

“I don’t even know if she likes me that much,” Shiro admits one day, and Keith has to fight back a flush as he fires back at Shiro, reminding him she’s his cat.

“Yeah, well, tell her that,” he says, taking her back and having her immediately start squirming in his arms. When she shoves an entire paw into his mouth trying to get away, Keith breaks down in full on laughter, both of them looking dumbfounded over where they found each other.

Some days he’s goofy, some days calm and reserved, and others he’s more confident and cocky, so much so Keith has to wonder if he’s flirting with him. It’s never been too far, crossing the line, but the mischievous little smirk Shiro has when he calls him a sight for sore eyes keeps him from being able to squash that feeling out completely. It doesn’t help that Shiro always seems to be dressed nicely every time he sees him too. More often than not it’s loungewear, but every so often he gets treated to the sight of Shiro dressed up in a button down and jeans, or… lord forgiving… one of his gym outfits. He swears the guy owns nothing but compression pants to work out in and it does nothing to keep this crush from going away.

Shiro’s nice… he’s fun, and he’s hot to boot, but not in a way that has him flaunting it every single second Keith stands in front of him, smelling of parmesan and motor oil. The cocky side really only ever comes out when Shiro’s fresh back from a workout, and then the next time Keith’s there he’s bundled up in an oversized sweater with a pouch just for Cassie in the front, asking how his classes are going.

He’s realizing his crush is going nowhere fast, but shoves it down deep every time he rings the buzzer for 2D. If he’s being honest, he’s okay with admiring Shiro from afar, getting to see little glimpses into his life every time he drops off the regular.

At least, that’s what he tells himself until the day Shiro opens the door in only a towel.

He hadn’t needed to buzz up, one of Shiro’s neighbours letting him in with a knowing little nod. He probably should have, come to think of it, he’d had to rap on the door pretty hard before footsteps started joining Cassie’s meowing. Keith was ready for Shiro in his workout gear, or maybe one of those tight-fitting hoodies he’s seeing him more and more as the leaves keep dropping, but not this.

“ _Fuck_.” Is all he can say as the door swings open, revealing Shiro in semi-naked glory.

He can’t stop staring, even as his neck is growing steadily redder with every second. He had a pretty good idea of Shiro’s shape from the clothes he wore, but he’d really had no idea _how_ in shape he was. There was a six pack… maybe even an eight pack staring back at him, glistening fresh with water. Shiro’s hair was still wet, a few bubbles of shampoo still left and Keith has the image of Shiro springing from the shower and grabbing a towel to meet him. The two of them stand in silence as a bead of water rolls down shiro’s abs, disappearing into his barely there towel and whisper of a happy trail.

“Uh… you’re… you’re early,” manages Shiro.

“Fourty-five minutes or less,” is all Keith can muster, eyes still locked on Shiro’s chest. The rest of their exchange is rushed, Shiro handing him his cash and them both making a desperate grab for Cassie as she makes another run for freedom in the chaos. Keith manages to catch her collar, but not before Shiro lunges, dislodging his towel.

“Like the show?” Shiro teases.

Keith doesn’t know where to curse or bless the fact that everything still manages to stay covered.

That night as he’s falling asleep he feels a stirring in his pants at the memory of it. Instead of acting, he rolls back over, hugging his pillow to his chest.

He wasn’t going to act on this.

How the fuck did he end up here.

* * *

Three weeks later, and something else happens. They’d managed to pretend nothing happened, at least, so long as Shiro wasn’t fresh back from the gym hyped up on endorphins and confidence asking if Keith was hoping for another front row seat to the gun show. Still, he picked up on the fact that now Shiro always waited to shower until he arrived. Shiro’s in another one of his more cozy outfits, black jeans and a puffy vest over his button down. He smiles as Keith waves in greeting, takes the box and starts chatting about rewatching the Fresh Prince and the last episode he left off on. Keith’s already waved down his offer of a drink before he hits the road again, the idea of sharing glassware with his growing crush too much for him to handle at 5:30 on a Friday, when it happens.

They’re usually both pretty aware of Cassie whenever Keith visits. After one time where they both had to chase her down to the elevator Keith knows the safest place to keep her is in one of their arms or blocked behind Shiro’s legs, but this time they forget. Shiro’s laughing, doing a semi-decent imitation of the Carlton for someone holding a mug of coffee, and Keith’s leaning against the doorframe wondering how the heck someone this dorky is allowed to be this cute. Neither of them notice her steadily slinking her way towards the welcome mat until she takes her chance.

They both spring for her at once.

Somehow, Keith’s not sure how, he ends up on his back, Cassie trapped and squirming in his outstretched arms. There’s a weight on top of him, _heavy weight_ , and with a bootup lag Keith realizes where he is.

On the hallway floor. Under Shiro. Face smack in the middle of his chest.

For a second neither of them move. Even Cassie goes limp as the two of them both hold her in their grip, Shiro’s pinky brushing against Keith’s thumb from behind her fur. He can feel way too much. Shiro’s body heat, the curve of his pecs against his cheek, even…

Keith goes red, grateful for the small miracle that here smack in Shiro’s cleavage he’s safely out of view. There, against his leg, is something that is definitely not Shiro’s thigh. And even though its soft, there’s no mistaking that it’s _big._

And then the spell is broken, the both of them scrambling upright and coughing loudly, looking anywhere other than at each other as they both race to apologize. When Keith leaves, it’s with a ten dollar tip from Shiro, his face equally as red as how Keith’s feels.

This time, when he’s back in bed. He bites the bullet. He opens his laptop, launches an incognito tab, and looks up a video of someone with Shiro’s build. Redheaded. With a great smack of hair on his chest and an equally muscled guy with him.

If he was going to jerk off after something like that, he was at least going to pretend it wasn’t over Shiro.

* * *

It’s getting colder, Keith now needing a beanie and an extra sweater under his jacket as he makes deliveries. He’s covered the majority of the Friday rush hour, down to his last three deliveries from the batch, when he realizes Shiro’s on the list.

He stops for a second, debating if he saves him to last, but another chill gust of air makes up his mind and he heads off in the direction of his apartment building, more than ready to seek refuge with Shiro.

When he gets there though, there’s no response to the buzzer. He’s about to whip out his phone and call the number connected to Shiro’s order, one he’s forced himself from programming into his phone. There’s been nights where he’s been tempted to text him, ones where he’s stressing over an exam or feeling the full weight of life and in need of a soothing voice and a reminder everything will turn out okay, but he’s held back each time. Pizza boys aren’t supposed to be calling up their customers at 1 am, especially not for non-topping related issues. He’s got the area code keyed in, about to type the in the rest and bite the bullet for the first time, when a shadow falls over his shoulder, joined by a hand a moment later.

“Keith? You’re early.”

Shiro’s blinking at him, still fresh and glowing from the gym. He’s got a coat on over his shirt for once, a fluffy zip up, but even still it gives Keith the perfect view of Shiro’s glistening collar bones.

“I didn’t think you’d be here for another ten. You’re always on the later side…”

Keith’s knuckles tighten on the box. So Shiro’s noticed he usually waits to drop his stuff off last. “Yeah, well… it’s cold out and your building’s nice and warm, so—”

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing,” Shiro chuckles, unlocking the door. “C’mon… it’d be a shame if my favourite delivery guy froze to death on my doorstep.” He wraps an arm around Keith’s waist, ushering him in and stopping all thoughts of Shiro leaving him at the doorstep outside. He can feel colour creeping into his cheeks as Shiro’s grip tightens for a second, steering him towards the stairs instead of his usual elevator trip. Only when Shiro opens the fire door does it slip away.

“You don’t mind, do you?” And Keith can’t say that he does, following behind Shiro and watching every shift of his butt in those tight pants of his. “Sorry I’m a little behind,” Shiro calls after him, “dragonboat went late tonight.”

“Dragon boat?” Keith remembers the shirt Shiro’d been wearing once, a workout top with a dragon spiralled around a paddle, and things shift a little more towards sense. “So whenever I drop stuff off and you’re dressed like this, that’s where you’ve been?”

“Eh, sometimes. Practice twice a week now seeing as we can’t get on the water anymore, then another three days at the gym myself, unless I’ve got practicums for class.” He stops on the landing and shoots a wink down at Keith. “Gotta keep the view maintained after all.”

Keith almost trips over the next step. Shiro grabs his arm to steady him.

“Didn’t think that would throw you off that much,” he grins, and for one second Keith swears Shiro can see all his blood steadily rushing to his face. “You like the view or something?”

“S-something…? I… I mean...”

Shiro claps his back, laughing. “Don’t worry Keith, I’m not here to judge. Doesn’t matter to me if your thing is guys or girls or tentacle aliens. It’s just nice to know you appreciate everything going on here.” And as if to underscore it, Keith watches, wide eyed, as Shiro makes his pecs bounce in turn.

He’s pretty sure he crashed his bike and this is a coma dream now. There’s no other explanation for the way Shiro’s lip tucks behind his teeth as he leans down over him, or the chuckle that continues to shake Shiro’s shoulders as he turns to make his way up the final flight.

He’s now doubly conscious and doubly impossible not to watch Shiro’s muscles move as he starts climbing again.

Well, if its a coma dream, he might as well lean into it.

“Is this your way of saying you like tentacles?” he asks, already regretting it as soon as its out of him.

Shiro pauses, looking over his shoulder at Keith. There’s the flicker of surprise there, and then he’s back to cool and confident post-workout Shiro.

“What if I am? You gonna call the kinkshaming police and let them know I’ve been on the internet?”

“Is it better to file a report online or in person?” he fires back, leaning into that same easy teasing Shiro always seems to be so good at. “Cause it sounds to me like you have some expertise in the area.”

“I’d like to see you go down to the station and tell them your friend’s been on hentai websites at least once in his life. Can’t wait to see the look they’d have on their face,” he snorts. “But really, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about something big and thick fucking you up.”

Keith’s ears go as red as his jacket.

He _has…_ the other week he woke up from a dream where something exactly like that was filling him out, only to crane his neck backwards and catch a shock of white hair. He’s had sex dreams before… but he’s never come that close to seeing a familiar face in them. He’d shoved it back down as soon as he woke up, telling himself it was just because of that video of the silver haired twink he’d watched the other night. But there’s no denying that whatever the guy had looked like in his dream, it was definitely closer to the man standing in front of him than anyone else he’s seen online.

He’s started to cave too, now watching videos of guys that steadily look more and more like Shiro. Ever since he’d felt the suggestion of what Shiro was packing against his leg, it was like his dick had gone and started unraveling the last of his self control.

If Shiro still remembers it, he’s playing it far cooler than Keith. He was funny like that. Sometimes he remembered their past conversations and sometimes he didn’t, but judging by the pitcher of coffee he’d caught Shiro drinking out of at one late night delivery, sleep wasn’t one of his strengths. Memory gaps were probably sure to follow too.

“You’re awfully quiet Keith,”  Shiro says, and Keith realizes he’s been silent for far too long, but all he can do is stare at the older guy like a deer in the headlights. There’s no way Shiro isn’t reading into this, picking apart all their interactions…

“I… I…” he stammers. Shiro frowns at him, hand on his hip.

“Keith…” he says slowly, “are you in the closet?”

_Bingo._

Keith tries to croak out an answer, but nothing leaves his lungs but air.

Shiro’s brow furrows, turning fully round to look at him. For a second he’s ready to run, fight or flight pumping in his veins, but Shiro’s face relaxes and his eyebrows slide up, a look of fond exasperation.

“Man… I’d been wondering for a while how you swing, but I’d never thought you’d be that embarrassed about it. Look it’s no big deal, I’m bi myself. Sometimes it takes time to accept it. You’ll figure it out.”

Keith can only bob his head in thanks, following Shiro silently the rest of the way back to his apartment. They don’t talk about their stairwell revelation, Shiro immediately changing the topic to a car show happening the next town over. Keith’s grateful for it, slipping back into their usual easy conversations. Shiro unlocks his door, shrugs off his jacket, and takes the pizza from Keith. Keith just stares at the rug where Cassie is pawing at Shiro’s ankles for dinner. He doesn’t look up until Shiro places cash in his hand.

“Hey…” he says, gently folding Keith’s fingers over the money. “Look… I know it can be tricky to figure things out when you don’t have someone there. I was lucky enough to have someone so, well, if you ever need help figuring things out I’m pretty sure I’m not the worst guy for the job. I mean, at least I’m easy on the eyes.”

Keith looks up at him. There’s no more of that teasing look Shiro had when he met him downstairs, just straight and sincere.

“Thanks. I’ll… I’ll keep it in mind.”

When he gets back to his bike, he screams for a solid minute into his helmet. Shiro’s bi. It’s confirmed, he’s into guys, and if how he’d acted today was anything to go on, there’s a decent chance he might be into Keith’s type.

This hole just keeps getting deeper.

* * *

He begins to narrow in on Shiro’s ordering routine. Tuesdays and Fridays, almost without fail now. Tuesdays are post-workout Shiro, now more than happy to tease Keith with little jokes here and there about their little encounter, and Fridays are him post classes, sometimes with glasses, but always in some comfy wear that has Keith itching to know what he looks like on the couch. They fall into a more predictable pattern now. Shiro drops the occasional flirty line and suggestion for places for Keith to hang one night, and the other he’s making sure Keith’s doing okay, touching base if he needs anything before striking out again. Keith’s embarrassed to admit he looks forward to both shifts, religiously guarding them from anyone else. He’s pretty sure the places Shiro suggests for him to check out are places he goes himself, and there’s a little thrill at the idea of running into him there. The one time he tried though, no such luck. He’s decided to get a better sense of Shiro’s nights off and try again, more than okay with just seeing him at their regular times, regular order.

Which is why it comes as a surprise to find himself in the physics building one Thursday evening, holding a pie covered in peppers and mushrooms and staring into a pair of all to familiar pink-ringed eyes.

“Sh-shiro?” he stammers, but yes, of course it’s him. He’s wearing the same frames on his nose, the lenses clouded over somewhat with salt, and has the same pullover sweater he’s seen him wear twice before. At least from the looks of his face, they’re both equally surprised to see each other.

“K-keith… what are you...” Shiro starts, but one look down at the box in his hands explains everything and he’s waving him to follow. “Come in. C’mon… before anyone sees you.”

He sits down at a desk in the middle of the room, stacked high with notebooks and bits of spare wire and resistors. Keith recognizes the room as one of the undergrad labs, the ones used for electronics classes. There’s half-smudge formulas written up on the board and a diagram of circuit on another. Keith drags a stool over and props the pizza on top, but Shiro waves it over and slides it onto a precarious pile.

“I thought you didn’t work on Thursdays,” Shiro sighs, pulling off his glasses and wiping away the worst of the grime on them.

“Once a month,” he sighs, taking a seat on the vacated stool. “And I thought you had dragon boat practice today.”

Shiro rubs his neck, looking down at the open notebook on his desk. “Yeah… about that…” He sighs, sweeping the book closed and grabbing a slice. Keith watches as he downs several bites, never even looking up from the desk when a strip of green pepper falls onto his lap and Keith snorts. “I’m kinda hiding out here right now,” he says finally through a mouthful of cheese. “Being stuck grading lab reports is a pretty good excuse.”

Keith hadn’t thought of Shiro as a TA, but now that he sees him here behind a desk, it makes perfect sense. Still… they guy is way too busy. Working out five nights a week, then balancing TAing and classes and work? No wonder there’s a pyramid of large coffee cups in the trash can.

“Anything in particular you’re hiding from?” He knows he’s toeing the line, but Shiro’s guard is clearly down right now, any of the usual chitchat nowhere to be seen. He’s nearly done the entire slice and hasn’t even asked Keith his usual curiosity over any weird customers since their last meeting. There’s also not even an attempt to reach for his wallet, but well, Keith knows where he lives after all.

Shiro chews, swallows, and looks between Keith and the pie. “I don’t think the dumb drama going on in my life is anything that great. And I especially don’t think you get paid enough to listen to me moan about it.”

“Well, you did tip me an awful lot the first time we met.” He smiles, leaning forwards and hands Shiro a set of napkins form his coat. Something between a hiccup and a moan escapes Shiro as he takes them, and as much as Keith wants to tease him a bit for it, he knows it’s not the time.

“Sides,” he continues, “you offered to be there for me if I needed to talk through anything with someone. I’m pretty sure I can find a few minutes to listen too.”

Shiro stares at him for a second, as if not quite believing what he’s saying. There’s a bob of his adam’s apple, a sad little distant smile, and then he’s looking into Keith’s eyes for real and Keith feels his mouth go dry.

“Okay, uh, strap in I guess. And grab a slice… this might take a bit.”

Both Keith and Shiro take some pizza, chewing in silence until Shiro finds the confidence to start.

“Alright, well, I guess context wise, I used to be dating someone in the department. We met in first year, had a lot of classes together, got really close and stuff. Before I knew it he ended up being my first long term boyfriend.” Shiro laughs nervously into his pizza. “Yeah, uh, so I guess now you know… I’m gay. Sorry if its a bit of a surprise.”

Keith brushes off the fact that Shiro’s already told him this. He’s clearly upset, blotting his nose with his arm as he takes another bite.

“Anyway… we were together for almost a year, did almost everything the two of us, and then the time came to apply to summer internships.” Shiro swallows, immediately stuffing more crust in his mouth. “He got offered a spot at Stanford and I thought he’d take it. I got one from CERN and accepted. Only after the fact did I realize he’d turned it down. Apparently he’d decided either the both of us went someplace together, or nowhere at all. But Keith…” he looks up at him, eyes shining with a hint of tears and something else, “CERN… chances like that don’t just pop up all the time. I wasn’t about to throw away a chance like that, especially with everything going on there at the time.”

Keith counts the years back in his head. It wasn’t possible, was it? But maybe…

“Were… were you on one of the teams investigating the Higgs Boson?”

“Yeah,” Shiro smiles. “On the ATLAS experiment too. A chance to be part of a landmark discovery… I couldn’t just throw that away, but he didn’t get that. Kept asking me ‘What’s more important Takashi? Me or some dumb particle?’. It didn’t even matter to him that it’d just be for four months, or what getting my name out there would mean. All he saw was me abandoning him for an accelerator in another country.” He sighs. “Even when I tried to point out we were in two totally different specializations, he wouldn’t listen. He decided that was me being too chicken to break up with him and cut it off there.”

Keith let out a low whistle. “And so?”

Shiro shrugs, reaching for a third piece, but not before picking up the peppers Keith’s peeled off his slice and downing them too. “So I went. And we broke up, and it turns out that summer he spread a lot of rumours about me across our year. When I came back a lot of our friends wouldn’t talk to me. In the end I took two semesters off to work in another lab and came back to class with the year under me. By the time I did he’d gone and gotten a term abroad. I just kinda… let it all fade into the past.”

“And let me guess. You saw him today.”

Shiro nods, string of cheese dangling between his mouth and hands bobbing morosely with his chin. “He’s back from Ohio State, and by the looks of it he’s been dating one of the guys from my old year. Long distance dating.”

“Ouch. You mean..?”

“Yeah,” sighs Shiro, running a sauce covered hand through his hair. Keith reaches out and dabs the worst out of his bangs before they turn cheeto orange for good. “He was willing to do that for him, but not for me. I mean… maybe he learned something from when we were together, but still…”

“It hurts.”

“It really does. I was supposed to be at an upper year mixer tonight I helped organize, but, well…” Shiro waves his hand at the mountain of pages in front of him. “Marking sixty reports by a bunch of clueless first years seemed a heck of a lot more appealing than seeing him and a bunch of my old friends whispering about me over burgers and beer. I don’t need them telling me I’m a disaster at dating.”

He looks back up at Keith, and Keith can tell just how much this must have been chewing him up. He’d thought he’d moved on, closed that chapter in his life, and then his ex appears out of nowhere to slam it back open and make Shiro question everything again. Keith wonders how long he’s been in here, how long its taken for his pen cap to be chewed flat and how much longer he’s planning on staying. The small stack of marked books suggests not that long, but the lines under Shiro’s eyes tell another story.

“Hey…” he says quietly, palm sliding over Shiro’s. He can feel the other boy’s muscles tense and relax under him, as if he can’t quite believe his regular delivery guy is here comforting him at school, but weirder things have happened. “You’re not a disaster.”

Shiro’s lips press together. “Are you sure? Pretty sure you’ve seen plenty of evidence to say otherwise.”

“And I’ve seen a lot that says otherwise. You’re a good guy Shiro. You’re kind, you’re smart, and you have a great sense of humour. You seem so driven and even so you make time for random people. I mean, do you think all my customers talk to me like you do? Even if you can’t cook, or face your ex when he’s _clearly_ trying _way_ too hard to win your breakup, you’ve got so much going for you. You shouldn’t be afraid to put yourself out there.”

He goes silent, afraid he’s said too much. Shiro’s just staring at him, mouth slightly open, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s not a therapist, not even sure if Shiro thinks of him as a friend, but its the truth and Shiro needs to hear it right now.

He doesn’t expect to be pulled into Shiro’s arms.

His nose is smushed up against Shiro’s shoulder, lungs almost crushed with the force Shiro holds him with. He can feel the other boy’s chin pressing into his hair, feel his grip tighten into his leather jacket. Shiro smells good… like laundry and coffee and the faintest traces of aftershave. Even the slight tang of body odor creeping in at the end of what’s no doubt been a long day doesn’t smell bad, more humanizing than anything else. Before he knows it his own hands are around Shiro’s body, carefully patting his back as he listens to Shiro’s breathing in his ear.

“Thank you Keith…” Shiro whispers. “I… I think I needed that.” He wiggles his head closer against Keith’s. “Today was honestly terrible until you showed up. At… at first I didn’t want you to see me like this, but right now? I’m so grateful.”

“You’re a really good guy too Keith,” he sniffs. “You’re patient and fun to talk to and Cassie likes you and you have a really nice smile. I like seeing you every week. It’s nice to have someone else who isn’t in my head to talk to about things like this. It’s dumb, but I look forward to seeing you every time I order from Sal’s. Maybe that whole good karma I was hoping for when we first met was you all along.”

Keith feels his throat go dry. His heart is speeding up, pumping more and more flush into his cheeks with every passing breath of Shiro’s against his skin. Shiro… Shiro can’t be saying what he’s saying right now, but he _is_. Even now, as he’s silently panicking Shiro’s still mumbling on about having someone to talk to about old 80s sitcoms and agrees bottled water is the biggest rip-off ever. He shouldn’t be allowed to feel like this, know what Shiro’s arms feel like around him, or how softly he can say his name. Its doing things to him and he doesn’t know if he can save himself any more.

When he gets back home that night and crawls into bed, he dreams about those arms all over again. And when he takes himself into his fist, there’s no deluding himself about what he’s actually fantasizing about.

* * *

Keith battles with himself for a solid two weeks over it. At first there’s nothing but shame over the fact that he’s masturbating over his favourite customer and pretty sure good friend. But the more he lies on his carpet, staring up at the stucco on the ceiling, the more he thinks about it.

There’s something there between him and Shiro. Whether it’s love or just friendship on Shiro’s part there’s no telling right now, but there’s definitely something. Strangers don’t hug each other like that, or tell them they’re lucky to have each other in their lives. They definitely don’t tell each they like the way they smile either.

Even the memory of it now has Keith’s cheeks going pink. Shiro had said that about him, and it makes him all the more self conscious everytime he cracks one around him. He’s falling for him more and more with every visit now, his easy laugh, the way his eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles and the way his lips form around Keith’s name.

He goes out for a long ride in the cold that afternoon, trying to clear his head. By the time he gets back home, teeth chattering and fingers numb, he’s still no better, blowing bubbles in the tub as he tries to think his way out of this even more.

Either he quits delivering to Shiro’s place and never sees him again to stop feeling like this, or he acts on it. Right about now he’s seriously regretting telling Shiro not to be afraid to put himself out there. Idiot, he doesn’t even have the guts to take his own advice. How does he expect Shiro to do the same?

Well… there is one way to try and still not throw himself completely under the mercy of a bus.

That Friday he arrives at Shiro’s with his usual order, and something extra. A six pack of cookies, with his number tucked down at the bottom. It’s cheesy as fuck, scrawled in his best handwriting, with nine little words that hold his heart in the balance.

**_Just in case you ever need to call me._ **

He knows it’s not an outright confession, but it’s something. If Shiro wants to act on it he can, and if he does maybe Keith can finally get a sense of what his real feelings about him are when he isn’t delivering food. If not, no harm, no foul. For all Shiro knows he might as well be offering to talk with him the next time he has a scare with his ex.

When the door opens, he’s greeted by Shiro in a tank top and sweats, smiling ear to ear as Cassie squirms in his arms.

“Keith! How you doing?” He trades the pie off with Cassie without even batting an eye at the extra box Keith’s holding. Meaning Keith’s going to have to bring up the little white lie he’s made in order to pass it off. Saying Sal values Shiro’s regular patronage really isn’t anything for Shiro to suspect, but still, he was counting on just being able to put it down on Shiro’s hall table with the rest of his order.

“ ‘M good,” he shrugs, tickling Cassie under her chin. She lets out a deep rumbling purr and starts trying to eat the drawstrings on his jacket. “How about you?”

“Taking a bit of a breather tonight actually. Been going a little hard lately and it's about time to have a break.”

Keith chuckles. “I swear, you’re the busiest person I know. Sometimes I feel like you must be able to be in two places at once to get done everything you do.”

“I mean, I _try_. It’s $18 for the soda and pizza, right?” He’s fishing in his wallet as he talks. “We were doing hell week in training and my everything is sore right now. I can’t wait to just flop on the couch and eat my way through the lord of the rings trilogy. If I’m not in a food coma by 3 am, I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

Keith smiles at the idea of Shiro draped over a worn sofa, slice of pizza rising and falling with his soft snores. Considering what’d been going on in his life lately, he deserved the break.

“How about you, any plans this weekend?” Shiro’s routing around in his coins pouch right now. “Didn’t you tell me once you have some uncles in town?”

“Oh, yeah…” Kolivan and Antok, though Keith usually doesn’t stop in to see them unless his bike is acting up or they invite him over for a holiday meal. “I’m not sure what they’re up to right now. Might go up to my mom’s and visit her and my dog, but otherwise it’ll be pretty calm. I have a few assignments I still have to get done.”

“Right, physics. Dang, nerds of a feather always seem to flock together, am I right?” He flashes Keith a grin and Keith questions if this is a subtle hint at something more. Did Shiro _want_ to flock together?

His grip tightens on the box of cookies.

“Actu-”

“Aw, crap!” Shiro cuts him off, staring down at the mess of change and bills in his hand. “I’m three short, and that’s not counting tip.”

“It’s fine, really, you don’t have to worry Shir-”

“No I do. I’m not about to go and make you head back to work and have to spot my ass for your boss. Just gimme a second.”

He’s off down the hall before Keith can stop him, turning off into a doorway on the left. Even from the threshold Keith can hear him crystal clear over the TV.

“Hey! Sugarhips, where’s your wallet?”

There’s a groan and some mumbling from the room. Shiro laughs, and then there’s giggling from someone else. He can hear fabric moving, Shiro’s little puffs of “c’mon you big baby”, and another voice teasing him back.

Keith’s blood goes cold.

Someone else is there. Someone that makes Shiro laugh, someone that he calls sugarhips.

There’s no mistaking it. He’s waited too long to act.

Shiro’s dating someone.

He doesn’t even wait for Shiro to come back with the rest of his cash, doesn’t want to listen to Shiro and the other guy bicker and tease each other back and forth when he’s pretty sure Shiro is in there in his TV room, trying to dig the guy’s wallet out of his pants. He puts Cassie on the doormat and leaves, dashing down the stairs and to his bike as fast as he can.

When he turns the corner, he thinks he hears Shiro calling after him, but it can’t be. It’s just his imagination, running away with him like it has been this whole time.

He was stupid to think Shiro saw him as more than a passing acquaintance, moments and all.

* * *

He takes two weeks off work, using the excuse of term papers and a sick dog to avoid going back there. He goes home twice, curling up with his great big ball of fur Kosmo and trying to forget everything he heard that night.

When he gets back, he changes his shifts. No more Tuesdays and Fridays. With any luck he’ll never have to see Shiro again, even if there’s an ache in his chest at the thought of never seeing that smile. It’s better this way, quitting him cold turkey. It’ll hurt for a bit, but then he can go back to normal, find some other customer to grow attached to and bond with and—

Who is he kidding?

There isn’t going to be another Shiro.

The weather seems to pick up on his mood. November showers hit hard for a week, leaving him drenched and soaking after every shift, no matter how many layers of GoreTex he wears. He fights down the little voice that reminds him Shiro’d probably have offered him a towel or a cup of tea if he showed up on his doorstep looking like this. At least one of his elderly patrons offers him a hot pack one afternoon when he shows up looking like a drenched rat.

No more crushing on cute customers. That’s his new year’s resolution for next year he decides. From now on, he’s looking for a new adoptive grandparent. That way, even if they develop the same easy friendship him and Shiro had, there’s no way he’ll get his heart broken.

It’s a miserable Monday night, drizzling and barely above zero. Keith’s swapped his usual leather gloves for ski ones, then covered them in plastic to try and keep the worst of the chill water from seeing down to his bones. He hasn’t seen Shiro in close to a month now, and even if it hasn’t been easy, it hasn’t gotten any harder. He manages to drop off most of his orders in record time, even getting to step indoors for a few blessed seconds as one of his regulars fumbles for change. He’s down to his last box before he can retreat back to the blistering warmth of the pizza oven back at Sal’s, when he reads the last order details.

Double sausage with extra cheese.

The name attached to it is different, someone called Takashi, but there’s no mistaking the address.

Keith’s stomach flip-flops in his gut. So that’s it. That’s the name of who Shiro’s dating. If it’d been any other night he’d have called up another deliverer and get them to drop it off, but of course it's Monday and there’s no one else working other than him. Hunk’s not about to stop watching the oven to do him this type of favour either. And even if so, Shiro’s building is only five minutes away.

He has to go.

When he buzzes in, he keeps it short. With any luck he won’t recognize his voice until he’s at his door. “Pizza,” is all he says.

There’s a pause over the intercom, and then “... Keith?”

He sighs. Of course Shiro’s probably learned what his voice sounded like after all this time.

“Yeah… it’s me.”

“We were… we’re glad you’re okay. It’s been four weeks…. You just straight up dissa-”

“I’m fine,” he clips. “Actually, in a little bit of a rush right now. Is it okay if you buzz me in?”

In and out. If Shiro wanted to talk more, explain himself, he could do it when his boyfriend wasn’t there with him. Keith climbs the stairs, jaw set, ready to keep a straight face. He won’t bend down to pet Cassie, he won’t smile and laugh at Shiro’s jokes or hang out in his doorway catching up.

 _Cold turkey,_ he reminds himself. _You’re almost there._

The door’s already open when he turns down the hall. He’s not sure if that’s a good or bad sign, but then again, for all Shiro probably knew he could have been kidnapped by a serial killer in his building the last time they’d seen each other. He’s ready for whatever Shiro looks like tonight, angry, sad, workout wear or bathrobe… Keith takes a breath and steps onto Shiro’s welcome mat.

He might have been ready for whatever Shiro looked like, but he definitely wasn’t ready for this.

 _Two Shiros._ Both looking at him with some combination of relief and worry and unease. One of them has Cassie bundled up in his arms and the other has his crossed across his chest. Both are dressed in the same combination of grey sweatpants and black sweaters.

Keith drops the pizza, the splat of cheese onto the boxtop falling on deaf ears as he stares at the hallucination in front of him.

Two of him.

There was no way.

This was hypothermia kicking in. He was hallucinating, passed out on the side of the road imagining this all. There was no other way to explain things.

“Keith… Keith… you okay?” One of the Shiros is reaching out for him, and only then does Keith realize he’s wobbling on his heels. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a sound like air slipping out of a balloon.

“He doesn’t look good…” The one holding Cassie steps closer too. “Keith… are you okay? I think you should come sit down for a second.”

He shakes his head, trying to retreat back into the hall, but he trips and one of their hands shoots out to catch him, supporting him under the arm and guiding him into the apartment and down the hall to a lived-in living room. He’s placed on the sofa as the dopplegangers sit opposite him, both exchanging worried looks with each other from the coffee table.

“Keith,” eases one of them gently, “can you talk to us? It looks like you’re in shock right now.” He lets go of Cassie and she comes to sit on Keith’s lap, mewing quietly as she makes biscuits against his chest in comfort.

“Theres’s… there’s two of you…” he manages, still not believing what he’s seeing. “You’re… you’re…”

Both of them stare at each other, then back at him. The one on the left’s mouth bobs open and closed.

“We’re… we’re twins Keith. Identical,” he says, forehead creasing. “Did you not…”

 _Identical. Identical twins. Either he was still hallucinating, or… or this was real. And he hadn’t picked up on it for all three months of knowing them._ Keith’s mouth is so wide he’s pretty sure a dozen flies to fly into it and he wouldn’t notice right now. His finger just keeps swinging between the two of them.

“Holy shit....” breathes the other one, “he _didn’t know!”_ He starts laughing, shaking so much that the coffee table is jostling his twin. “Oh my god… this makes so much sense now. Whenever you’d ask if I had another kitchen disaster or if I had any advice for professor Holt’s class… you thought I was _this guy!_ ”

Shiro 2 blinks at Keith, mouth as open and gaping as his own. “Oh my _god_ … so this entire time, you thought we were the same person?”

“Even Acxa caught onto it by the third week!” snorts Shiro 1, “and I was actively _trying_ to act like Shiro to fool her!”

“I’m pretty sure that was your mistake Kuro… ”

Keith’s head is spinning, things are getting more and more confusing. Shiro? Kuro? Acxa knew about this all? Cassie keeps mewing in his lap, pawing at him more and more as this rising feeling of ‘ _What the everloving fuck_ ’ keeps on growing.

“Okay, _pause,”_ says, waving a finger at both of them. “You’re catching me up on everything, _everything_. Because I’m still freaking out here a little bit and how the heck do I know this isn’t just invasion of the body snatchers?”

“Because that was a lame 50s horror film and this is real life?” offers the one he’s pretty sure got called Kuro.

“ _Shh…_ ” he’s silenced with an elbow from his brother. “I’m pretty sure you’d be freaking out if it turned out all this time there were two Keiths and you had no idea.”

“Actually, I’d be pretty dang happy, but go off.”

Shiro 2 sighs and sits back on his hips. “Okay. So we’re identical twins, born 15 minutes apart. I’m the oldest, Takashi, and this is Ryou.” He jerks his thumb towards his brother. “Somewhere along the line I got the nickname Shiro and one of our weebier friends in grade school coined the nickname Kuro for him.”

“It’s because you got poliosis and I still had black hair then. C’mon Shiro, it was so obvious.”

“Not to me…”

“So…” Keith squints, pointing at Shiro-Shiro  “you’re the one I met first. And you’re the one studying…”

“I’m doing kinesthesiology, Shiro’s doing physics. Shiro was the one you found crying in the physics building and I’m the one still doing dragonboat.” Sh-Kuro crosses a leg and smiles at him. “I’m also the one you walked in on naked.”

“ _WHAT?!”_ squawks Shiro.

“Oh come on bro,” Kuro snorts, “You’re the one who dumped his whole heart out over Adam to him. Pretty sure you were just as naked then.”

The two of them start bickering back and forth with each other, and Keith lets this information sink in. So he’s known two guys all along. Shiro and Kuro. Twins. If he really studies them together he can start picking up on slight differences between the two of them. Kuro’s bangs swing slightly more to the right than Shiro’s, there’s more roots showing, and he’s got a mole on the side of his neck. Shiro on the other hand, is white to the base, with slightly larger eyes.

If he starts thinking back even more, he can piece together which is which.

Shiro’s the kitchen disaster that Cassie loves even when he’s swinging her like a pendulum in his arms and kissing her belly. Kuro’s the flirtier one who likes old cars and hates peppers. Really… if he’d looked between the lines more, payed more attention to Shiro’s little personality swings instead of just focusing on the fact that some hot regular was interested in what he had to say, maybe he’d have picked up on the fact they were two different people already.

“Okay…” Keith says slowly, looking between the both of them. “So… so I think I can see how you’re twins, but how come you guys never picked up in the fact that I didn’t get that?”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t exactly use names all that much.” Kuro rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure I didn’t catch you calling me Shiro or Takashi, and even then I figured you’d pieced it together by the fact that it’s always my name on the order and not his.”

“Uh… no. Sal always writes people’s last names on the boxes.”

“Oh… uh…” Kuro chuckles sheepishly, “Then maybe me assuming you caught onto that after mistaking me for him the first time we met was wishful thinking.”

“And I’d always just thought Kuro’d told you when you’d met him. He’s usually not shy about doing that.”

“Unlike you. Remember when you let Tammy call you Ryou for two weeks before I stepped in and told her _I_ was the one who gave her my juicebox? Dummy was crushing on the wrong person the whole time.”

 _Me too Tammy_ , thought Keith, except all this time it had been the both of them.

But… but if there were two of them, that meant…

A stupid little flicker of hope sparks up in his chest. There was still a chance with one of them. Whoever… whoever wasn’t dating…

“Can… can I ask you both a question?” Shiro and Kuro sit up, Kuro worrying a patch of his sweatpants between finger and thumb. “Which one of you was the one who answered the door the last time I was here? The one having the movie night?”

“That was me,” Kuro says. “And you straight up ran out on me without so much as saying goodbye. We were worried sick about you, thought something happened.”

“I called Sal’s six times but he wouldn’t put us in touch with you, just promised that you hadn’t been carried off by wolves last he’d seen of you.”

“And then Acxa and this other chick with this honking long ponytail became our usual delivery peeps and they knew just as much as Sal did. We started ordering pizza randomly just to try and see if you still worked there or not.”

Now that they mentioned it, there’s an awfully big stack of pizza boxes in the corner of what was otherwise a pretty clean kitchen.

“Did something happen Keith? Is your mom okay? Did your dog get sick?” Shiro’s looking at him as if any second now he’s ready to jump him with whatever hug he needs. _Fuck… of course knowing him like they did they’d have wondered if something like that had happened._ Which made the actual reason all the more stupid.

“You’d laugh,” he sighs, stroking Cassie’s ears. He hates to admit it, but he’s missed being able to regularly pet a furbaby like this.

“Try us… you might be surprised.”

Keith bites his lip. “Seriously… It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“More than me spilling protein shake over your shoes?”

“Or you pointing out I had creamed spinach in my hair? I’m pretty sure it’s not much worse than some of the stuff you’ve seen from us over all this time.” Shiro smiles softly at him, and _fuck_ if Keith’s heart doesn’t skip a beat as Kuro does too.

He groans, honing in on Cassie’s tag and the way it jingles as he pets her chin. “Really… I know it’s none of my business, and I’m happy for you and all Kuro, believe me, but I guess… I guess it was a shock to find out you’re dating someone. I don’t know why, but I got the feeling you were single. Or well… both of you were… the one of you… you get what I mean.”

There’s a pregnant pause between them.

“I’m… I’m not dating anyone,” Kuro says slowly, “and Shiro’s been painfully single since his last boyfriend. What gave you that idea?”

Keith stares at him. “Someone was with you that night. You were both laughing together, you… you called them…” he screws his face together, “ _sugarhips…_ ”

Both twins are silent. Keith’s scared to look up at him. There’s no noise in the apartment other than the hum of the fridge and Cassie’s breathing.

When he looks up, both boys are still frozen. Shiro’s face is beet red, and Kuro is staring at the both of them like a cat with it’s tail in a toddler’s grip.

“I… _I’m sugarhips_ …” Shiro moans, his face disappearing behind his hands. “Holy crap… holy crap…”

“W- _WHAT?_ ” Keith stammers. Kuro’s still looking between the two of them, mouth dropped wider and wider.

“I’m… Kuro calls me that sometimes… cause… cause…”

“Because he’s got a massive sweet tooth but whatever he eats goes straight to his ass. Holy shit… wait… so that means… that night, when we were both here and you were there…” Kuro’s eyes light up. A mad cackle of glee comes from him and Keith has a flash of what he must have been like as a toddler. “You… you _like us, don’t you?_ ”

It’s Keith’s turn to go redder than a firetruck.

“ _N-n-no!”_ he sputters, but he knows they can both see through his lie clear as day. Shiro’s peeping at him from between his fingers, eyes gone wide. Kuro’s full on staring him down, mouth open and bobbing like a hyperactive parakeet.

“Oh my god… oh my god Shiro,” he squeaks, “I _told you! I_ **_told_ ** _you he had a crush on us, and you didn’t listen!_  You kept saying ‘oh noooo, maybe the pizza guy just listens to our stories and loves our cat and stares at us like that because he’s good at his job’. _I TOLD YOU!”_

He’s shaking his twin now, looking more and more like an excited bird with every passing second.

“Shiro! Shiro! You know what this means?!”

Shiro groans from between his fingers, still somewhat pink. “Kuro… we agreed…”

“Agreed on what?” Keith’s staring at them, throat as dry as the desert, heart hammering away in his chest. This reaction… maybe he was still deluding himself, maybe the way they were both looking at him was all in his head, but _still_ , he had to know.

Shiro and Kuro exchange looks, the latter scratching his head.

“Okay… so Shiro and I always have a running agreement going. It goes back to middle school when we both thought Roy Focker was cute before he turned out to be a massive douche.”

“Kuro… do you really think…” Shiro starts, but he’s waved off. Keith’s heart is pounding it’s way up his throat. He keeps looking between the twins, silently pleading for one of them to speak. With a groan and a sigh, he carries on for Kuro.

“Seeing as we’ve had a few fights over the years… and a lot of them not being worth it in the long run… If we both like a person, well… we let them make the first move on one of us.”

“And this… this is one of those times,” Kuro finishes quietly. He shoots Keith an apologetic smile, and it’s like the last of the air in Keith’s lungs is gone. He sinks back into the couch, staring somewhere five feet behind the twins.

He was definitely dreaming.

There was no way this was real. But Cassie’s claws on his chest prickled and when he pinched his arm it stung. He was sitting in his crush’s apartment, with not one, but _two_ incredibly hot guys he liked, and they were both into him. And if he had to guess, they’d both felt this way for some time.

“So… so you’re not dating anyone?” he asks lamely. “Neither of you?”

Shiro shakes his head. “No.”

“But we could be…” Kuro leans forward, elbow on his knee, fingers drumming against his chin. “It’s all up to you Keith… which one do you like? Sugarhips here?”

“Or butterlips,” snorts Shiro, rolling his eyes and mirroring his brother.

They’re so close, staring him down with big attentive eyes like Kosmo begging for scraps. His pupils flick between the two of them… Shiro was down to earth and easy to talk about his problems with, but Kuro had this easy air to him that made it okay to joke about the bad times. Kuro apparently could cook but Shiro was good with animals. Shiro loved old cheesy horror films and guitar but Kuro was into bikes and hidden bar gems.

It’s… it’s impossible to say. Up until ten minutes ago he’d thought they were the same person, and now knowing they’re two makes it’s impossible to decide what parts of both of them he’d fallen for were better.

“Keith…” Shiro murmurs, “Keith, is everythin—”

His lips are mushed against Keith’s, soft and open as both their eyes fly wide in surprise. For a second they’re both frozen, unsure, and then Keith’s sinking into the feeling, three months of longing taking the lead as he seals them together with a kiss. It’s chaste, confused, but even so he can feel Shiro lean into him a little more as he eases his way closer against his mouth.

And then Shiro’s rolling away, as soon as he’d come, and Kuro is there, nosing his way between their cheeks and slotting himself into Shiro’s place. This time it takes Keith a little less off guard, Kuro locking himself against Keith’s lips and gently waiting for him to respond. When Keith does, there’s the barest slip of Kuro’s tongue against his top lip as he returns the kiss, lashes fluttering closed, giving in…

When he pulls away, Keith’s gone deaf, the only sensations around him the blood pumping through his ears and the echo of their lips on his own.

“That clear anything up?” Kuro asks, one eyebrow raising. Both his and Shiro’s cheeks are dusted rose.

He can’t say that it has. Keith just stares at them both, completely blindsided. _God… they both kissed so well…_ Even Kuro, who’d he’d almost expected to be so forward was undeniably gentle with him. He’s so mixed up, more than ever. It’s impossible, he can’t pick, there’s no way… no way he can choose between the two of them.

Shiro looks him over in worried silence, Kuro’s smile twisted down into a frown with each eternal second that ticks on between the three of them. Keith doesn’t know what to say. He likes them both, he can’t pick one without feeling crushed over rejecting the other.

“I… I…” he stammers. He can do this, it’s not like this is his first time with two guys in love with him, except OH WAIT, it _was._

Kuro chuffs, giving Keith a look that shoots right through to his core. “Okay then… what do you have to say about this?”

And without batting an eye, he grabs his twin’s jaw and pulls them both into a kiss.

Keith’s eyes go wider than saucers. Kuro’s much more forward with his brother. He can see how his teeth tug on Shiro’s lips, hear every single wet sound that leaves the two of them. Blood rushes to the surface of his entire body as he watches Shiro’s tongue slip into Kuro’s mouth to suppress a moan.

 _Fuck._ Picturing himself with one of them was already hot enough, but the _both of them?_

As they pull apart, Keith can feel the definite stirrings of something in his pants.

A stirring that Kuro definitely catches as he wipes his lips and grins up at Keith.

“Well… I think that settles that.” He slings an arm around his twin’s shoulder, still smiling at Keith. “Unless Keith has something to say, I think we’ve got a new boyfriend.”

Keith can’t look away from how kiss-flushed their lips are. “Are… are you serious? You’re both okay with dating the same person?”

“I mean, Kuro’s the person closest to me in the entire world,” Shiro says with a long look at his brother. “I love him. And if the person I love loves him too, how can I be against that?”

“Plus, I’d be lying if I’ve never thought of what sharing a hot little piece like you with him’d be like,” adds Kuro, grin approaching cheshire cat levels. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, and Keith swears he catches sight of something that’s not thigh muscles there. “What do you say Keith, I doubt you’ve ever been with anyone half as good as one of us.”

“Here? R-right now?” He’d be lying if he wasn’t already imagining what it’d be like to be kissed for real by the both of them, teeth and tongues and touches snaking everywhere over his body. His dick’s already half hard, straining against his jeans. “B-but I still have an hour of my shift left.”

The both look at him for a beat before breaking down into silent laughter.

“I mean… I didn’t think you’d be quite _that_ eager… But if you’re that into it… Shiro, what do you think?

The other twin nods, and Keith realizes he’s been staring at his hips this entire time, silently oogling his tent. Without looking away, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. Kuro slides on up beside Keith, sending Cassie bounding away.

“Last call,” he whispers. “Unless you say no, Shiro and I are going to rock your world to another plane of existence.”

“And what makes you think I won’t rock yours?”

Kuro’s eyebrows raise at Keith’s little prod, and then he’s leaning down, lips sealing themselves back onto Keith’s. They don’t stay there for long, quickly moving their way down his jaw and onto the sensitive skin of his neck. Keith’s scarf is thrown away, jacket slowly unzipped as Kuro sucks his way down his neck. His breath hitches as Kuro bites the junction where it meets shoulder, and then he’s moving back up, licking and nipping everywhere he can reach.

“Hey. Sal. It’s the Shiroganes.” Keith’s eyes fly wide from their haze as he locks in on Shiro’s, staring him down as he talks to his boss. “Your delivery guy looked a little woozy when he showed up so we’re letting him recover a bit before he heads back out.”

Kuro bites his earlobe and Keith holds back a moan.

“Yeah… his knuckles were white, must have been the freezing rain. I don’t think he had the right clothes on to be riding tonight. If it’s frostbite it’s minor, but we’re trying to take our time to treat it right.” Shiro smiles as one of Kuro’s hands snake up under Keith’s top and brush against his nipple.

“Oh, I’ll treat you right,” Kuro whispers in his ear. Shiro’s eyebrows bounce appreciatively as he tweaks one bud, rolling it between his nails

“Yeah, I’ll tell him that, and don’t worry, we’ll look after him.”

Shiro tosses down the phone and is immediately on Keith’s other side, kissing his way along his jaw.

“Sal says you can have the rest of the night off,” he says between mouthfuls. “Which means you’re all ours.” He rises up to meet Keith’s open mouth, and with a flicker of fire in his eyes they come together.

Questions gone, Shiro kisses so much deeper than before. He’s forward, insistent in his movements, and Keith finds his head hitting the back of the couch before he even realizes Shiro’s bowling him over. He can taste his tongue everywhere in his mouth, against his teeth, on the roof, dancing over his own tongue like it’s his to claim, marking everything as his own. Kuro bites down on his neck again and Keith squirms at the feeling, a strangled cry swallowed down by Shiro. He feels the sting of teeth on his lips, feels Shiro take a sharp inhale of breath from his own lungs, and the other boy is redoubling his efforts, hand coming to slide under Keith’s shirt as well and ghosting its way up to his other nipple.

There’s a growl in his ear and Keith turns in his haze, his and Shiro’s lips separating with a wet pop. Kuro’s replace them in an instant, tongue immediately slotting in where Shiro’s had been and picking up with vigor, dancing and rubbing against Keith’s own until he’s giving as good as he gets, Kuro grunting into his mouth in time with sharp little tweaks of his chest.

Shiro picks up the slack, nosing his way down Keith’s nape as he helps Keith shrug off his jacket. He feels lips close down on the softest meat of his neck, pulling it so tight he swears Shiro wants to eat him, sucking and rolling the sensitive spot between tongue and lips until there’s no doubt there’ll be a mark there when Keith looks tomorrow.

The very idea of it sends a purr radiating through his chest.

He bites down on Kuro’s lip, brows quirking up as he gives him a look.

“You going to be outdone by your brother marking me up?”

There’s a flash, something dangerous there, and Kuro’s lips leave his own, sliding down to the opposite side of Keith’s neck as Shiro begins on his second mark. Keith lets out a groan as Kuro gets to work, toeing of his shoes and socks as he squirms under their attentions. Shiro’s hand is already slipping south, rubbing Keith’s hip bones and and palming at the expanse of skin just above his boxers. There’s a sharp pain on Keith’s right side and Kuro’s growling, a deep purr of satisfaction as he adds a ring of bite marks around the hickey that’s just laid claim to the other side of his neck. With his other hand, Shiro takes Keith’s face and guides their lips back together, and he bucks into both their touches, Kuro’s hand now snaking down to going his twin’s.

It’s him who thumbs at Keith’s button, toying with it until Keith huffs into Shiro’s mouth and tugs both their hands to the front of his jeans, an unspoken need for them to get him out of his pants, and fast. His own hands slide back up Shiro’s sides, grabbing the hem of Shiro’s sweater as he goes, rucking it up and around his chest as he pauses for a second to feel the meat of his muscles. There’s a little gasp into his mouth as he kneads Shiro’s pecs together, and he’s rewarded with another one as he does it again.

“He likes that, y’know?” Kuro purrs over his shoulder. He’s pressed against Keith’s back now, still kissing his neck as he works to undo his pants. “Did he ever tell you I told him that that was how you were supposed to jack off as teens?” There’s a noise of protest against Keith’s tongue, but Kuro continues on, emboldened. “He’d play with himself there until he’d actually come from it. What’dya say bro? You want Keith to make you come from your titties alone?”

Keith’s shoved against Kuro’s chest, the two of them flung down onto the couch as Shiro pushes them off him. His shirt is ripped off in one clean movement and chucked into the darkness of the den, chest rising and falling unburdened now as he stares down at Keith like a lion stalking its prey.

“Actually,” he rumbles, and the deep turn in Shiro’s voice sends a shiver down Keith’s spine, “I think I’d like to see if I can manage that on him.”

Keith’s desperate for him to try.

He’s on him in seconds, hands and mouth and tongue working over Keith’s small, sensitive nipples as he toys with him. Kuro’s got Keith’s arms twisted up in his t-shirt, blinding him from the sight of it and Keith’s imagination is all he has going for him. He can feel the scrape of teeth against his skin, the hot puffs of breath against his hard buds. When Shiro’s mouth latches on sloppily and sucks he lets out a scream, arching up into it and pulling him closer against him.

At his rear he can feel Kuro getting hard against the curve of his ass, sweatpants doing nothing to contain what’s there. He’s stripped free of his shirt a second later, only for his noises to be swallowed down once again by someone’s tongue, this time Kuro’s and Shiro continues to lav all over his chest, nails and lips doing their best to stir him to a boil. Kuro’s hand is straight up down his pants now, pawing at Keith’s package from over his boxers and shoving the denim down his hips even more. Keith’s straining between them, so fucking hard it almost hurts, practically on the verge of coming already.

The hand on his dick disappears and Keith doesn’t know whether to curse or bless. There’s a smack of fabric hitting the floor, and Keith feels his jeans yanked down even further as he’s flipped, colliding facefirst with Shiro’s chest as the twins flip their positions again.

“Keith…”

Keith feels hands on his hair, tilting his chin up to look at Shiro, and when he does he’s pulled up along his chest, crashing together once more for another kiss. There’s not time for breathing room here, not with two of them demanding every second of his attention. Keith can only let him be swept up along in it as Shiro hugs them together, his spit slicking between their bodies and Kuro works to tug off the rest of Keith’s jeans, leaving him bare except for his boxers.

Weight settles down on his back and this time instead of the scratch of fabric it’s skin, sandwiching him in a double down of grade A beef he never could have dreamt up in his wildest fantasies. Lips are back on his neck and cheek, demanding attention away from Shiro’s mouth and into Kuro’s. Keith moves as if through syrup, turning to kiss one twin, then the other as they purr and growl for his attentions.

Something _definitely_ excited grinds against his ass, and Kuro lets out a little chuckle as Keith makes a noise of confusion. Slowly he works himself into a rhythym, humping up against Keith’s back as he presses him down against his twin. His hips are slotted against Shiro’s belly, cock pressed against his navel and ground down into Shiro’s stomach with every movement Kuro makes. He can feel Shiro’s own cock rubbing up against his thighs, tenting proudly between his legs and ass. There’s a grunt, a mashing of noses, and then suddenly Keith’s kissing no one, both twins coming together for one blissful second that has Keith’s eyes going wide before they realize where they are. They pull back, eyes heavy with heat and both decent on Keith’s lips together.

Three way kissing is sloppy, a mess of tongues and breath that’s impossible to keep track of. Sometimes he’s kissing one of them with the other raining pecs along their lips, other times its him doing that, trying to slot his tongue back inside the mix. He can feel hands reaching around his hips and down, down to Shiro, and with a grunt he feels the fabric of Shiro’s sweatpants move, tugged away by his twin. More crisscross over his sides, tying him between them, and Shiro’s doing the same, stripping each other of the final barriers that leave them apart from Keith. Keith’s own boxers dislodge in the fray, tugged away with the constant motion and friction of three sets of hips moving as one. He feels one dick brush against his own, another rest against his crack and that’s it. There’s no more barriers between them. Keith lets out a delusional little laugh.

He was doing this.

Actually doing this.

He reaches around, trying to get a feel for both twins members. They’re both thick, thicker than his own, but size is hard to judge exactly and he wants to know _exactly_ what’s about to fuck him. He gives them both a little twist on their leaking cocks, giving himself just enough room to squeak out from between them and onto the carpet below. Both twins turn to look at him, naked as a newborn, ass planted on their rug.

Oh… this is definitely better than his wet dreams.

Naked he can pick up on even more differences between the twins. They’re both stacked to the moon and back, but Kuro has extra definition that only comes from someone working out more days than he doesn’t. Shiro by contrast is slightly softer around the edges, hips and ass a bit wider than his brother’s, though by exactly how much is hard to judge. Kuro has another mole just above his hip, and Shiro has a subtle silvery scar across one quadrant of his stomach.

Their dicks though, that’s where Keith attention hones in.

They’re both large in their own right, standing proud and glistening at the tips with pre. One curves to the right and the other the left, and Keith’s suddenly thinking about sneaking up behind one of them and figuring out which one it is simply by feeling which way they tuck.

Kuro lets out a low whistle and Shiro lets out a hum of appreciation. “I knew you clearly worked out and stuff, but I didn’t figure this much.”

Keith looks down at his own body. His chest is still sticky with Shiro’s saliva, nipples raw and cherry red from all the attention. He knows he’s not one to pack on the pounds of muscle, but he’s proud of his body in his own right. Between kickboxing and swimming he’s built himself up around a solid core, compact and tight, subtle lines hinting at just what strength lay behind his small package.

Not that his own dick was small, but, well… if both Shiro and Kuro were larges he definitely wasn’t more than a medium.

“So,” the twin continues, eyes flicking lazily up and down Keith’s body as he admires their handiwork. “How do you like it? Shiro’s vers, but I’ll have you know I’m not taking it up the ass for anyone, even someone as cute as you.”

Keith’s eyes keep following the subtle movements of their dicks as they shift with the rise and fall of their breathing. His mouth is watering, hardly able to decide which he wants first. His tongue darts over his lips, and he doesn't miss the way the both of them jerk in response.

“I’m more than fine with taking you both,” he grins, watching as Shiro’s eyes go wider still. “But I’m gonna need a little help here.” He wiggles his hips, digging himself deeper into the carpet and half hoping there’s an assprint there tomorrow for them to re-live everything going down tonight. “Who’s going to be a gentleman and help me?”

“ _Me,_ ” Kuro wheezes, and Keith can’t avoid the look of surprise at his usually so confident exterior crumbling for a second. He’s pretty sure he likes it.

“Good,” he says, batting his lashes at Kuro just a little more as he sits up on his knees. “Then you can get me ready while me and Shiro have some fun.”

Both twins audibly gulp and Kuro sprints off the couch off into the depths of the apartment, no doubt in search of something to use for lube.

“Top dresser drawer!” Shiro yells after him. “Black bottle! Don’t grab the crappy banana stuff you got me as a gag!” By the time he’s back to looking down on Keith he’s crawled back up on the couch, hands and face resting on Shiro’s lap.

“Keith?” His voice is quiet, unsure. Keith wonders if he even ever went this far with his ex. That thought’s immediately replaced with the one that he has to wipe every last trace of that idiot out of Shiro’s mind for good. After all, he’d dumped Shiro, he couldn’t be _that_ smart. He leans forward, licking his lips one final time, and slides them over Shiro’s head.

The noise Shiro makes as Keith takes him in his mouth is something he’s not going to forget, not for fifty years. A gasp turned whine turned full out moan as Keith fits more and more of Shiro’s dick between his lips, barely making it beyond halfway before he feels the tickling of a gag reflex at the back of his throat. He draws back, tongue hugging the underside of Shiro’s cock and the noise intensifies, almost as if he’s tuning Shiro through it. He swirls it around the tip, feeling out every divot and curve and he’s rewarded with the sweet sound of all air escaping Shiro, the other man keening over him as he worships his cock. Keith smiles inwardly, lapping at Shiro’s piss slit and enjoying how his hips jerk with every drag of his taste buds over the sensitive opening, and then he’s sliding back down, taking even more of Shiro’s length into his throat. He keeps it up like that, Shiro’s hands stroking his bangs from his face as he feeds more and more of it between his lips, nonsense praises rushing from Shiro’s own as he strains to restrain himself from bucking into the warm heat of Keith’s mouth.

“God Keith… Holy shit… that’s… oh god… just like that…”

Keith’s humming around Shiro’s dick now, some half forgotten tune he couldn’t care less about and he continues to play Shiro with his mouth. He’s so focused he doesn’t even hear the pop of the cap beside him, doesn’t even notice Kuro’s return until something cool and slick slides into his hole.

Then, he nearly gags on Shiro’s cock.

The feeling of his throat spasming around his member is too much for Shiro and with sharp yank of his hair Keith’s tugged off, left only with the feeling of a finger up his ass.

“Well, that slipped in like butter. You’re definitely a bottom alright.” Kuro gives him a cheeky look from the corners of Keith’s vision, finger still circling around in Keith’s insides. He can feel it stirring the lube around inside of him, smearing up against his walls and heating up with his growing arousal. “I wonder if I can get you to come with just a finger.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he snorts. “I don’t come for anything less than three.” And fuck if the look on Kuro’s face isn’t worth that. He can already feel a second finger circling his hole, spreading lube up and down his crack. Carefully, warry of Kuro’s motions at rear, he returns his attentions back to Shiro’s dick.

He can’t swallow it down anymore, not with the risk of choking and accidentally biting down, but he’s more than able to spread love over it in other ways, nibbling his way up and down the length, lapping at his dick and sucking whenever he hits the bitter-salty taste of pre. It’s straining now, the vein on the underside swollen against Keith’s tongue as he licks his way up it. Kuro is thrusting two fingers into his ass with gusto, scissoring and stretching every which way trying to break Keith before when he said he would, but so long he has something else to focus his mind on than the steady pleasure thrumming through his ass Keith manages to stave off orgasm, hips cocked carefully to keep his dick from dragging against the cushions of the couch.

Shiro eases him off just as Kuro squeaks a third into Keith, a sharp yelp ringing out from him and a slap ringing out in the room. When Keith looks up he can see Kuro’s other hand hovering at Shiro’s side, one finger wet and shining with slick.

“You were going to make me come all over him,” he grouses. “Not cool Kuro.”

“Awww, come on, the two of you coming at the same time, you gotta admit it’s cute.”

“Cute enough to lose your stretching privileges.”

It’s Keith’s turn to squawk as Shiro pulls him off Kuro’s fingers, leaving him woefully empty.

“Why don’t you have a turn with his mouth Kuro. You’re looking a little on the soft side there.”

Both Keith and Kuro makes noises of protest, but Shiro’s already stroking Keith’s temples with his thumbs, smiling down at him like he’s just wandered across the juiciest secret of all.

“Aww, don’t look like that Keith,” he coos, slipping off the couch to kneel. “I’ve got a place for you right here, and I promise, I’m just as good with my tongue as you are.”

Keith cheeks go scarlet as Shiro lays down beside his twin and pats his chest. There’s no way this is going where it’s going, but Keith’s already slipping off the cushions and sliding his groin against Shiro’s chin. He can feel his breath on his taint, Shiro’s hair tickling his balls, and Keith’s thighs are already shaking in anticipation. Hands grab his hips and guide him down, until his hole is slotted over Shiro’s mouth. Something wet and warm circles his rim, lapping at the lube already left there, and in one smooth movement slides inside him.

Keith’s never been eaten out before, and the hot, wriggling feeling of Shiro’s tongue is enough for him to break out into a string of curses so long it takes Kuro pulling his hair to stop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice as rich and dark as chocolate. “Don’t think I’m not forgetting what you’re supposed to do.”

He’s guided down to Kuro’s cock as Shiro continues to make out with Keith’s ass. He’s pretty sure that’s the only way to explain it, even if it feels nothing like kissing. Shiro is straight up fucking him on his tongue, bending and swirling the muscle around in Keith so skillfully he feels like he’s at risk of passing out. The way it curves inside of him, hot texture rubbing against his walls, there’s no way he’ll be able to go back to just fingers after this.

Kuro slots his cock between Keith’s lips and gently eases his way between them. He’s surprisingly gentle despite his impatience, waiting until Keith comes back into himself long enough to start moving up and down it himself. He ends up falling in time with Shiro’s rhythm, laving over Kuro’s cock like Shiro is his insides. It’s easier this way, letting his brain fall to the wayside and giving into the feeling of the moment, translating it up his core and down his tongue.

When Shiro presses all the way inside, Keith almost chokes on Kuro’s cock. He feels his nose bump against the forest of his pubic hair, has hands on his head in instants, pulling him back just enough to avoid suffocating himself, but not so much that Kuro can’t enjoy the way his throat spasms around his member.

“Well fuck me…” he groans. “Shiro… you were right about him.”

“Told you,” and Keith feels the corners of Shiro’s mouth press up against his ass cheeks as he smiles between them.

“C-can you do that again?” he asks, and Keith nods, mouth still full of dick, and swallows him down again. Kuro bumps against the back of his throat, dripping precum down it. His head is swimming as he swallows around it, mouth full to the root, and the cursing from up above him is enough to make him redouble his efforts, bobbing and squeezing around the thick intrusion in his throat until the corners of his vision start to blur. Not to be outdone, Shiro’s doubling down, craning his tongue to the very deepest reaches of Keith he can make it to.

His tongue presses up against Keith’s prostate and he’s coming in seconds, letting out a muffled scream as he spills himself through Shiro’s hair.

He’s almost passed out, delirious in the throes of orgasm and lack of oxygen, when Kuro pulls him off his straining dick. Shiro’s still playing with him, milking out the last of his orgasm with fingers as well as mouth. Keith swears there’s four in there along with the monster that’s his tongue.

“Sensitive little thing…” Kuro pulls Keith up for a kiss, lapping at the inside of his mouth and the traces of both dicks that he’d just taken in it. “Did you come from choking on my cock or Shiro choking on your hole?”

Keith can only whine into Kuro’s mouth as the two twins continue to play out the rest of his orgasm, Kuro working his front as Shiro finishes him from the back. He’s completely boneless now, his entire weight would be on Shiro’s face if not for the strength of the two twins. Only when they’ve milked him dry and some of the haze has left him do they sit him back on Shiro’s chest and take him in.

“How was that? Good for you?”

Keith nods drunkenly. Shiro’s still rubbing four fingers up inside him and the stretch is making him loopy with pleasure.

‘He’s nice and stretched down here too. Think it’s just about time for the main event, if you’re still down for it that is.” Shiro kisses along Keith’s thigh, looking up at him from between his lashes. Keith and Kuro both make a noise in their throats as he stops and sucks a deep blistering hickey on it right at the junction where leg meets hips, ibare inches from his spent cock.

Keith eyes Kuro’s still rock hard dick with anticipation. The way Shiro’s watching him… there’s no way he isn’t close to bursting too.

It makes his mouth water thinking about it.

“Well, what do you say sweet thing?” Kuro sucks another mark into Keith’s shoulder and he feels his spine tingle at the very thought of taking them. “Think you’re ready for us?”

His response is to spread his legs, angling his hips up so both of them can see where half of Shiro’s hand disappears inside him. Both twins lock eyes for a second, and Keith’s sliding down Shiro’s front, slipping into his lap as he sits up and Kuro comes to lean over his brother’s shoulder.

“Oh, I think he’s ready,” Shiro says. “Who do you want first Keith? Kuro, or me?”

“Or…” Kuro leans forwards, rubbing their cheeks together as they both watch Keith with bedroom eyes. “You think that greedy little hole of yours can take the both of us? I’m pretty sure double sausage is still on the menu tonight, even if you dropped the first one all over the floor.”

Against Shiro’s belly Keith can feel his member stir.

“I think we’ll take that as a yes.”

Keith’s eased onto his knees between them with hands braced on Shiro’s shoulders. His body prickles with anticipation as Kuro slides his fingers into him one last time, spreading yet more lube against his walls. Keith sucks in a gasp as Kuro fondles that bundle of nerves right against his front, those same fingers dragging against it agonizingly slow as he pulls them out.

“Definitely seems loose enough, but it might be a bit of a tight squeeze.” Shiro wrings his lips together at that, but Keith’s still thinking about those two massive cocks and his own.

“I can handle it,” he puffs as Kuro’s fingertips run around his loosened pucker. “Just get on with it, before Shiro stops being hard.”

There’s a snort from above him accompanied by a sigh that can only mean someone’s rolling their eyes and then the fingers are gone, replaced with something else at his back door, sliding up and down between his buns as Kuro’s hands grip his hips. He can feel how the meat of the shaft pulls his cheeks apart as Kuro grinds down against his hole, the wet noises of lube on skin ringing through his ears as he waits for the moment. Back, forth, back, forth, back, until with one fluid move, Kuro lifts Keith’s hips and sinks in.

In seconds Keith’s full of dick, Kuro stopping only when he bottoms out, hips flush with Keith’s. It’s like he’s been shot full of heat, insides unable to process the sudden fullness in him. His eyes roll back on themselves, back arching into it, sucking in each and every inch as he struggles to get used to it.

Fuck. Kuro’s big, bigger than his fingers, bigger than his toys, and Keith’s still got one more dick to take. He can feel bruises forming as Kuro grips his hips, trying to force himself from thrusting into the tight heat that’s his ass, Keith rocking up against him as the both of them struggle for breath. Shiro’s kissing his cheeks, combing hair from his face and whispering filthy praises in his ears.

“You took him so well Keith, look at you. Just a second ago you were empty and now you’re stuffed full. You should have seen yourself when you took him… I swear…” a hand slides along Keith’s belly to tweak his cock, “if you hadn’t just come, you would have done it from that alone.”

Fingers take Keith’s neck, and he’s being pulled back, shoulders pressing into Kuro’s chest.

“You love my dick, don’t you? Like a little slut for it, ass smooth as butter.” He slaps Keith’s ass cheek, the sound making him jump and muscles clamp down on instinct. Kuro lets out a hiss of pleasure.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. That’s what you’re gonna feel like, stuffed full of both of us. You’re going to be so tight you won’t know where my dick ends and Shiro’s begins.”

“Please…” Keith moans. “Please…. I need it.”

“Perfect,” Shiro purrs, and Keith’s lips are silenced with Kuro’s as he’s pulled into a deep, breath-stealing kiss. Arms hook behind his knees and he’s flipped, slammed against Kuro’s chest and down further on his cock. He moans into Kuro’s mouth, tongue lapping out to wrap around the other’s, Shiro’s hot breath against his neck. He feels the other twin slot against his front, thighs sliding under his own, arms wrapping around his chest and Kuro’s. He’s traded off, Shiro worming deep into their kiss and stealing him away, Kuro groaning and rocking up against his hole.

Something else presses against it and Keith looks down with blurred vision. He can just make out the tip of Shiro’s cock sticking out from his fist before Kuro swallows his tongue again.

“Let your voice out,” he growls. “Show me just how much you love Takashi’s and my cocks. He’s been such a good boy, waiting for you to get all warm and ready around mine. The least you can do is let him know how good it is.”

Keith can only nod and mewl into Kuro’s lips as he feels Shiro’s cock catch his rim. It’s tight, so, so tight he’s scared they might not be able to both fit, their combined size enough to tear him, but Kuro’s hands are back at his chest, twisting sounds and cries from his nipples and he feels his lower half go slack with pleasure. With one gut flipping motion he feels Shiro’s head slip inside.

Both twins curse, Shiro biting down on Keith’s shoulder as he’s clamped down almost instantly. Keith’s body fights the feeling, unsure, but he wants this… _fuck he wants this so badly_. He’s been dreaming of them, dreaming of this for weeks now, being fucked by his favourite customer and now two favourite, insides carved out in their shape he’ll be feeling them for days.

Slowly, his body relaxes, hands and bodies rubbing against him in comfort as Shiro slides in another inch. Bit by bit, he can feel him make his way inside him, spreading him thin, squeezing Kuro so tight against Keith’s back wall he swears his cock might just fuse to his ass and leave him full forever. He doesn’t want it to stop, but of course it does, what feels like hours later, Shiro’s curls tickling the underside of his balls and now painfully hard dick.

They all let out a collective breath.

If there was any air left in Keith’s lungs it’s gone now, replaced with the sheer feeling of Shiro and Kuro inside him. He moves carefully, angling his hips just slightly and already he can feel jolts of pleasure racking up his spine.

He’s so full there’s no way to move without feeling them.

“Fuck…” Shiro moans, something like drool sliding down Keith’s collar bone.

“Language,” Kuro teases, but it’s easy to tell he’s affected to, voice far to breathy to have any edge to it. Both twins struggle to keep still. Every so often Keith feels one of them give a jerk of their hips, rocking up into him and making the three of them moan all over again. He’s so fucking full and its fantastic, Shiro and Kuro packing him out like one massive cock inside him.

He rubs a hand over his stomach, eyes going wide.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses.

He can _feel_ them, actually _feel them_ , their dicks pressing out against the skin of his stomach and curving his belly with their shape.

“Fuck is right…” Shiro whispers,  hand moving to join Keith’s. Kuro joins a second later, and the three of them are all momentarily lost in feeling their shape against the shape of Keith’s middle. “Keith… you’re gorgeous…”

“You’re going nowhere too…” Kuro moans, stroking up and down the line of their cocks inside of him. “We’re going to fill you up like this all the time, make you come on both of us until you’re shooting blanks. We’ll fuck you until you can’t come without two dicks in your ass. How does that sound?”

Keith hums. “Sounds like you need to get started on that right now.”

He keeps a hand on his middle as the twins readjust their grip, cradling him by the hips and thighs. For a second he’s wondering who’s going to move first, Shiro or Kuro, but with a sudden jerk at his navel he realizes what they’re both going for. The shape of them inside him slides away, shafts pulling out as they lift him off their members, pulling out until only half of them remain. Then, with the same agonizing slowness, they slide him back down, letting him feel every millimeter that their heads drag against his walls.

They fuck him like that, slow and sensual, tongues laving over his neck. He squirms in their arms, trying to feel more of them inside himself. It’s something, _god is it something_ , but it’s not enough. He needs to be pounded, needs, to be fucked to his wits end, mind melting out his ears as everything else fades away but the pleasure in his ass. He jerks his hips, and somewhere in the mix, Shiro’s grip loses itself.

Keith slams down on both their cocks, gravity hammering the feeling right up his spine. Both twins flinch.

Keith lets out the longest moan in existence.

He slaps Kuro’s hands away, pushes Shiro’s off as they try to feel for his sides. He’s taking control now, fucking them like he needs to be fucked. He grabs Shiro’s shoulders, digs his fingers into the meat of the muscle there and drags himself up their lengths, pulling himself up until he’s almost empty. His hole twitches and squeezes down on nothing, desperate for that heat only their dicks provide. Shiro’s staring up at him with disbelief, mouth hanging open, and with a flash of a look at him Keith’s sinking back down, sliding onto them so fast his ass bounces off their hips as he bottoms out.

There are no more breaks now, no more slow torturous movements. Just him moving, using their dicks for his own pleasure, milking noises out of them as he fucks them both. He stops halfway up, squeezing down on both of them as he rocks in place, making both twins gasp and curse as he holds them at his mercy, clamping them in a vice and making them drag against each other as much as him, and just as they’re almost used to it he’s moving again, fucking himself back and forth between them until his hips are a blur, wet sloppy sounds of sex filling their apartment.

Kuro’s letting out a chain of every curse in the universe, words moving so fast against the back of Keith’s neck he doesn’t know if its becoming jiberish or a prayer. Shiro’s at his front, kissing everything his mouth can reach, messy and desperate, saliva slicking everything in his path as he struggles for something to ground himself. Keith grinds down on them both, mashing his lips against Shiro’s and feeling the boy whine into his tongue.

Fuck. They were perfect. Perfect and hot and all his, in love with him as much as he loved them, ready to spoil him into a new plane of existence. Keith could feel his orgasm building again, the prickle. Moves faster now, hipbones bruising against their thighs as he slams himself down onto them. He’s close… so fucking close and he can taste it in their voices, both of them close to the brink too. He’s ready for it, ready for the burst of heat inside him, ready for the torrent of cum that will paint his walls, marking him as theirs so deeply he’ll be leaking for days. He rolls his head back, eyes surveying his partners as he fucks them into home.

“Who’s going to come first?” he purrs. “Who’s the one who’s going to fill me up good?”

There’s a jerk at his ass and all rhythm breaks down, the last of the twins’ restraint snapped. Both buck up into him, mouths latched onto either side of his neck and in seconds he can feel one kick and stutter up into him, then the other.

He fucks himself on their spurting cocks, his own orgasm taking him as the first rush of come floods up inside him. All noise, all feeling fades away, save for the pleasure spreading through every nerve of his body.

Keith comes to some time later clutched between the twins, both rocking against him as they collectively spill their last few drops of release.

The trio collapses onto the floor, the three of them still tied together as they break down in a fit of post-orgasm giggles, euphoria flooding their veins.

“Oh man… we’re doing that again.”

“ _Fuck yeah_ we’re doing that again,” Kuro wheezes. “Keith… I don’t know what to say but… _holy fuck man_.”

“Holy _cow_ is right,” pants Shiro. “I don’t… I don’t think I’ve ever been with someone like this. Don’t think I ever will again.”

“You down for another round?” Already Keith can feel Kuro’s fingers rubbing up against his stretched hole, helping the deluge of cum leaks from him and onto the carpet.

“Mmm… in a bit,” he sighs. “Taking you both isn’t exactly a picnic.” He’s completely boneless, blissed out on kisses and cum. Both Shiro and Kuro press fresh ones against the corners of his mouth.

“I’m good like this…”

“Me too.”

There’s a meow from somewhere to their left, Cassie clearly finding it safe to return to the living room now that the whirlwind of sex is done. Keith’s almost tempted to call out to her to come snuggle, one more warm body in the puppy pile they are, when he catches sight of the pair of feet beside her.

Human feet, attached to another human, one staring at the three of them with something close to aneurysm. Someone with a distinctly familiar face, one that matches the two Keith’s pressed between far too well.

“What. The _fuck_?!” Screams the stranger, a younger black haired miniature of Kuro and Shiro. If Keith had to guess, he can’t be much older than 19.

“Oh…”

“Shit…”

Kuro and Shiro shift around him, the latter tugging a pair of jeans over their waists at the barest attempt at modesty.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Keith croaks.

“That’s my line!” the stranger yells, hand shooting out to cover Cassie’s eyes lest she see anymore debauchery than she already has.

Kuro groans and Shiro buries his face into Keith’s chest.

“Keith,” he sighs, “meet our little brother, Kuron.”

**Author's Note:**

> So yep that happened, gave me a massive craving for pizza halfway through writing this, and made me go back and look up the kin requirements for my old uni. 
> 
> Shout out again to Joltikon for this wonderful idea, If you ever find this, I hope it's halfway close to what you were thinking


End file.
